


A Different Kind of Salvation

by zinger17



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 04:30:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3195398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinger17/pseuds/zinger17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Emma Swan is the newly appointed deputy of Storybrooke and Neal Cassidy doesn’t respond well to homophobes. And if he can stop forcing her to fucking arrest his ass, maybe they can get their happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Kind of Salvation

The newly minted Deputy Emma Swan furiously blows at her dripping bangs, swiping at them angrily only to have them slap wetly right back into her face. Of course. Of fucking course. It’s that kind of a day.

It’s an absolute scorcher, a record high for Storybrooke Maine if there ever was one, the sun’s rays beating down relentlessly, uncaring of the drama unfolding below. 

The blue blouse Emma picked out this morning has long since soaked through to her red jacket, her face glistening in the harsh sunlight bouncing up off the street. Her ridiculously long blond hair is plastered to her neck, the long wet tangles weighing her down even more.

She’s starting to seriously wish she’d folded under her new bosses good natured teasing and gone with a shorter more manageable style. Just because the town she is now responsible to serve and protect is in the middle of bum fuck nowhere and thus her acceptance of this position brings the city police force up to two doesn’t mean Sheriff David Nolan hadn’t been delighted to indulge in the traditional ribbing of the rookie and poke fun at her admittedly very unruly mane.

Honestly, she’d been toying with the idea of cutting it off for months. A fresh clean start to go along with the change of scenery. It’s only her own damn pride keeping her from hacking it off but fuck if she’s going to give in now. No way is she giving David the satisfaction. Even if it is making this monumentally shitty day even more shitty.

The glare off glass buildings is growing positively unbearable. The heat, the blinding sun, and the powerful smell of melting tar is giving Emma a pounding headache, complete with a side of faint but building nausea.

And to top it off, she’s got these assholes to deal with.

Waving signs blazing, ‘Homo Sex is a Sin!’ and ‘For the wages of sin is death!’ line the streets as protesters shout and scream their displeasure at the latest appointment to Storybrooke Elementary. 

Archie Hopper is a quiet, kind man of great patience, a man perfect for the position of teaching first graders. He is also in a relationship with another man, a fact some townsfolk have taken great issue with.

Mayor Regina Mills seems to be leading the charge, expressing ‘great trepidation about a man such a lifestyle influencing our children,’ and ‘worry about the direction our community is going in.’

It made Emma fucking mad ok? Beyond the whole being a decent person thing, law enforcement isn’t exactly the highest paying job in the world and so with great reluctance, she’d accepted sharing an apartment for the time being. In between settling in to a new job and shipping all her crap from Boston, she hasn’t had much time to meet new people- not that she minded. However, her roommate, Mary Margaret, happens to be the elementary schools superintendent and as such, the one to hire the older man in the first place. Emma might go out of her way to avoid people as a general rule but with a roomie smack dab in the middle of the drama, she was bound to meet the new teacher eventually. And shockingly enough, she actually wound up liking the guy.

Archie was a good man, sweet and gentle, a specimen rare beyond compare as far as Emma was concerned. Who gave a flying fuck about where the guy put his junk? But the mayor’s crusade certainly was effective, the end result being this shit show, a crowd of homophobes picketing Main Street on the first day of school. Regina stands off to the side, dress neat and tidy, sickly sweet smile plastered on, not a hair out of place as gullible townsfolk did her dirty work for her.

“Doing ok over here?” Emma turns to face David as he quickly walks toward her, coffee cups in hand. 

“Yeah. We’re good,” she assures him, gratefully accepting the offering. Taking a moment to sip the glorious caffeine, Emma eyes him carefully. His handsome face is strained, shadows in his eyes as he looks at the angry faces on the sidewalk.

She might have seen her fair share of protests in Boston but its different here. These aren’t’ nameless faces in the crowd. These are friends and neighbors squaring up against each other hurling words of hate and anger in every direction and this could get very ugly, very fast.

“The kids will be leaving pretty soon,” David tells her, glancing down the street. “Mary Margaret says the most of the kids were more confused than upset. They really liked Archie too,”

“Archie’s pretty likeable,” Emma agrees, swiping at her bangs again. Damn this sun. “But there’s a lot more people than there were this morning. Including Madam Mayor,” she jerks her head in Regina’s general direction.

David swears, almost dropping his cup in his haste to look over her shoulder for the subject of their discussion. Emma smirks. Their shared dislike for the smarmy, two-faced mayor was the first thing she and David had bonded over. She’s not at all surprised at the disgusted look spreading over his face as he scans the crowd.

She is surprised to see David’s jaw suddenly drop and his muttered, “What the hell?”

Emma whips around, shoving her partner to the side, hand automatically going for her sidearm, heart pounding. She’s ready, prepared for anything.

She is so not prepared for the sight that meets her eyes.

A tall man clad in traditional Arabic garb and sunglasses has pushed his way into the protesters. He’s even wearing a keffiyah, a head garment which had to be killing him on such a hot day.

But what really attracts her attention is the sign he is now heaving high in the air over his head.

‘I’m not with these guys,’ it reads.

Behind her, David is cracking up, hunched over and shaking with laughter. “Emma! You just almost pulled a gun on Jesus!” he cackles, slapping his knee. 

“Shut up David,” she snaps, her heart rate slowly returning to normal. She studies the strange man the other protesters are starting to angrily confront, pushing him further out into the street.

Yes, David is right damn him. There is a man dressed as a hippy Jesus, waving a sign about boldly protesting the protesters protesting a gay teacher.

Emma’s lips quirt into the soft smile.

“Sheriff! Deputy Swan! What the hell are you two doing!?”

It’s Emma’s turn to swear under her breath as she turns to face an angry Mayor Regina striding over towards them, heels clicking angrily against the pavement.

“That man is breaking the law. These protesters do not have a permit to be on the street? Do you see him standing on the street? Well, do you?”

“Yes, Madam Mayor we see him,” David manages, stifling his laughter. He turns to her, lips quivering. “Well Emma, do you want to arrest Jesus or shall I?”

“Sheriff, this is not a joking matter!” Regina yells but Emma is already off, walking over to the costumed man. She’s had fill of that women, thank you very much.

Hippy Jesus is amazingly calm as she cuffs him and leads him away from the now cheering crowd. He only politely requests if she could be sure to bring his sign along.

"Took a lot of time making that poster. Not much of an artist," he confesses, flashing very white teeth.

Emma obligingly grabs the admitting very funny sign and finishes pulling the man’s wallet of of his pocket. “Neal Cassidy, huh,” she says flipping out his id.

Hippy Jesus- Neal - just shrugs. “That’s what it says,” She leads him over towards the car. 

“Gonna search me some more, officer?” he grins at her, acting for all the world like they are friends chatting in at coffee shop instead of a deputy arresting a grown man crashing a protest dressed like a famous religious figure. “I promise I got no fish in my pockets,”

Emma just rolls her eyes, snatches the sunglasses off his face, and shoves him into the squad car. 

But as she pulls away toward the station she can’t help but think about how beautiful his dark eyes were.


End file.
